


Brothers at Arms

by empyreanturtle



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anger, Anger Management, Angst, Big Brothers, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Protectors, Rivalry, Spoilers, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 20:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12712626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empyreanturtle/pseuds/empyreanturtle
Summary: A story in which I try to explain why Ravus goes from hating Noctis pre-Altissia, to loyally naming him King in Chapter 13. And also try to explain why Gladio hated Ravus so much he felt a need to fight Gilgamesh, then suddenly respects him after their last battle. Also, I always felt that Ravus made a much better foil to Gladio than to Noctis (both older brothers, both aggressively protective), and I thought it would be interesting to have them interact when they're both feeling like they failed in their roles.Thanks toayy_zajjyfor beta-reading!





	Brothers at Arms

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started this scene AGES ago (just after Ep Gladio), but never got around to finishing it. With the announcement and trailer of Episode Ignis seemingly filling in this same time gap, I wanted to finish and post it before Square Enix does their own take on what happened.

Gladiolus Amicitia paced back and forth along the hallway between Noctis’s and Ignis’s rooms at the First Secretary’s estate. Sitting around for the last three days since Leviathan’s awakening had given Gladiolus plenty of time to replay what happened, trying to find the reason everything had gone so wrong.

The Empire was to blame. Their attack on the Hydraean made a bad situation turn horrible. Gladiolus knew as soon as Leviathan appeared that getting her blessing would be harder than Titan or Ramuh. They hadn’t been easy, but Gladiolus recognized an anger in Leviathan that the other gods had lacked.

The Empire’s involvement only fueled it further. They attacked the Hydraean with the full power of their army. And every time they missed, the rounds impacted with the city below. Despite the “recovery force” they deployed after the battle was done, it was clear to Gladiolus that the Empire had no regard for the people of Altissia.

Gladiolus had done his best to protect the Altissians, helping them move to the higher levels of the city as the water rose. But he hesitated when he saw the Chancellor’s ship flying towards the fight, towards Noct. Trying to decide whether to go to his King, or help Ignis with more of the citizens. And that’s when Gladiolus heard the shell blast below. He rushed to pull Ignis from the water as fast as he could, but the damage had been done.

And now Ignis was blind, Noctis was in some supernatural slumber, and the Oracle was missing. That moment of indecision caused him to fail at protecting all of them.

“A weak shield protects naught,” Gladiolus murmured. He clenched a fist and pounded it against the wall. He hated that Ravus’s words still rang true despite everything he had done to make himself stronger.

The sound of Prompto returning to the estate, whistling his silly chocobo song, gave Gladiolus his chance to get out for a while. He was done with the siege mentality, done with waiting around until they had no choice but to defend themselves. He was ready to take action.

“Heya!” Prompto greeted him cheerfully as they passed. “Where ya goin?”

“For a walk,” Gladiolus replied.

“O-kay, buddy,” he replied slowly, then mumbled something about finding a better mood while he was out. Gladiolus only waved his hand in response, knowing Prompto didn’t deserve any of the words likely to come out of his mouth.

Outside the estate, the people of Altissia gathered along the sidewalks on the highest levels of the city. Over half of the city below had been flooded, and the lowest level was still underwater. He walked south of the city center to the rows and rows of tents that had been set up as makeshift homes for those who had lost theirs. It was only one of four camps set up around the city by the Imperial Army’s recovery unit.

As he entered the southern camp, it didn’t take long for Gladiolus to catch the familiar scent of Mhaago’s wood-smoked fish. It stayed with him as he walked his usual path to a tent at the end of the second row, where he lifted the flap, and walked inside.

“Welcome, lad,” Weskham greeted him with a wave. The restaurant proprietor had been given a larger tent than most, in exchange for his cooking abilities. Inside, two shelves of various drinks and cooking supplies sat behind a table that served as a prep counter. On the opposite side, another long table had benches down each side, and in the back corner was a small wood-burning smoker.

“What brings you here today?” Weskham asked.

“Needed to get out for a while,” Gladiolus responded. He took a seat on one of the benches, and Weskham set a plate of the fish in front of him.

“On the house,” Weskham clarified.

“Surprised people aren’t lined up for this,” Gladiolus said. “I smelled it from the edge of camp.” He took large bites of the meal, glad for the food but eager to get to the point of his visit.

Weskham folded his arms. “Oh, they’ve all had their share already. It’s the least I can do to help with my city’s recovery. And speaking of recovery, how fares the young King?”

“Still asleep. But the docs say he’s fine.” Gladiolus pushed away the empty plate. “Hear any, uh, interesting news lately?”

“Depends on what is interesting to you,” Weskham replied. “Most of the fishing boats were destroyed. The few left have been hired by the First Secretary’s estate to provide rations for the city. The Oracle is still missing, and while some suspect the worst, most people are still hopeful.”

Gladiolus frowned. It hadn’t been his duty to protect Lady Lunafreya, but he felt like he failed her all the same. “Any news about the Empire?”

“Of course,” Weskham said with a knowing smile. “They have started their relief efforts to help stabilize the city, but the main force is preparing to leave. Only one company will remain to oversee the city’s recovery, under the command of General Ungaro. Of course, the same effort in Insomnia has not gone well, from what I’ve heard. I suspect that’s why they removed the High Commander from his position.”

“Ravus…” Gladiolus clenched a fist beneath the table. Ravus was the one leading the Empire’s attack on Leviathan, and on all the other Astrals. He led the hunt for Noctis, too. The Empire was to blame for their situation, and Ravus had been at the front of it all.

“Now,” Weskham continued, “If I were the High Commander, I wouldn’t stick around to see what consequences come with the demotion. The Imperials rarely give second chances, and never give a third.”

“You know where he is?” Gladiolus asked. He felt fire rushing through his blood at the chance to take out the man responsible for everything. For Noctis, and Iggy. For Altissia. For Jared Hester, and everyone else who had helped them along the way and suffered for it.

Weskham shook his head. “There are only rumors of a man in white armor headed east of the city. In the direction the water is draining.”

Gladiolus saw no reason to delay. Ravus was going to pay for everything he had done. “Thanks, Weskham,” he said as he moved towards the exit.

“Be careful, lad,” Weskham replied. “A son of Tenebrae doesn’t get to be High Commander of the Imperial Army without the strength to enforce it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

\-----

Gladiolus found the signs of someone walking swiftly, and heavily, out of the city to the East, just as Weskham said. The person was trying to hide their trail, stepping on rocks and fallen limbs where they could. But the broken branches and occasional armored footprint in the mud led Gladiolus through the forest along the water’s current edge.

The water had receded several feet already, but it was still much higher than normal, and the land was left weakened. The trees creaked and groaned with their weight in the moist soil. Somewhere to his right he heard the clamour of one crashing to the ground after its roots could no longer hold it upright. The ground was littered with wood, glass, and other debris that washed out of the city.

Gladiolus continued to follow the trail until he came to a large tree lying across the ground. Its roots were still dripping mud as they sat exposed. But at the water’s edge, across a small clearing just beyond, he saw the unmistakable white armor of High Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret.

Anger welled up inside of him. He raised his arm to summon his blade, but something gave him pause. Ravus was kneeling over another form on the ground. It was fairly large, and covered in tattered white cloth.

“Luna…” Gladiolus breathed out the Oracle’s name in a whisper. As much as he wanted to drive his sword into Ravus’s chest, he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. In this moment, Ravus was nothing more than Lunafreya’s brother mourning his loss.

Gladiolus watched in silence, hidden by the fallen tree, as Ravus lifted Luna’s body onto a broken door. He took time to carefully adjust her arms and legs into a peaceful pose, and secured a single sylleblossom beneath her hands. After setting several oak branches around the perimeter, Ravus paused, with his head lowered towards his sister, then pushed the bier into the water.

Gladiolus bowed his head and whispered, “May your soul return to Eos and your light shine eternal.” The last time he spoke those words had been with a roomful of people fifteen years prior as he held his own, newborn sister in his arms. Iris was born weak, and Gladiolus had made a promise to their mother keep her safe.

Despite her being under Cor’s watchful eye now, he still worried about her safety. What if daemons attacked their house at Cape Caem? What if the Empire hunted them down? Would they kill her as quickly as they killed Jared? Or would they hold her captive, as they did Luna, to be used as bait for him or Noctis?

Or, worse yet, would they take her and lure her to their side, as they had done to Ravus? Could Iris be like the cold-hearted traitor before him? Gladiolus shook the thought from his head and focused his attention on the provisional ceremony once again.

The Oracle’s funeral raft drifted beyond sight as the day turned to dusk. The former High Commander turned away from the water at last. With no searching or hesitation, his gaze settled directly on Gladiolus.

“What do you want?” Ravus demanded.

Gladiolus sucked in a breath and renewed his awareness. How long had Ravus known he was there? He stepped out from behind the tree roots and walked with his head high. “Heard you got demoted. I was worried I wouldn’t get my chance to take you down myself.”

“Have you so quickly forgotten our last encounter?” Ravus asked. He dropped his hand to his hip and drew a sword that was too small for the scabbard he wore. That he didn’t even have King Regis’s blade anymore just made Gladiolus even more mad.

“I’ve been busy,” Gladiolus shouted and summoned his own sword to hand. The glaive had been given to him after he stood against Gilgamesh. Now, Gladiolus let the power it contained mix with his own fervor and channeled it into a single, focused attack against the High Commander.

The two swords rang out as they collided between the two men.

Ravus stood unflinching before his attacker, using the strength of one arm to press his weapon forward. His face showed only a cold, detached determination in his eyes. But despite his outward confidence, Gladiolus could feel the faint give and take of the true effort Ravus needed to counter his attack.

A snarl formed across Gladiolus’s face, and he leaned into his sword. Ravus beat him the last time they were at arms. Since then, Jared Hester had died. Iris and their other friends had gone into hiding. Altissia was in ruins, with so many of its citizens lost. The Oracle was dead. And Noctis was in an unnatural sleep.

The Empire was to blame, and Ravus had been at the front of it all.

Gladiolus let his anger build like a raging fire in his chest. His sword held strong against Ravus’s blade. He slammed his foot into the mud to secure his footing. 

How many more cities would fall at his command? How many more people would have to die? The Empire needed to be stopped. Ravus needed to be stopped.

And Gladiolus was going to be the one to do it.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone else!” Gladiolus yelled as he pushed forward, finally breaking the stalemate between their blades. He pressed an attack against Ravus, but each swing struck only the steel of Ravus’s sword. Every step Gladiolus took forward, the next contact made him step back. Every strike from Ravus, he blocked and answered with his own. Ravus was quick and efficient, but his sword did not have the same reach as Gladiolus’s. The two men attacked and counterattacked, advanced and retreated, back and forth around the small clearing.

“You foolishly believe you can safeguard those in your care. Protectors are destined to fail,” Ravus hissed as their fight continued. “All must one day perish, even those who are protected the most.”

“Not on my watch,” Gladiolus growled. He swung his glaive at Ravus once again, but instead of striking steel, it sliced into the High Commander’s right shoulder. Ravus let out a grunt and stumbled away from the blade. Gladiolus pursued him with another attack, and another. As each one landed its mark in the weak spots of the High Commander’s armor, Gladiolus’s anticipation grew.

He was going to stop the danger to Noctis and his friends at the source. He was going to take out Ravus Nox Fleuret once and for all. Gladiolus swung his glaive in a downward arc towards his opponent’s neck.

Ravus halted the attack with his armored left hand, gripping the blade as he stood straight once again. His detached expression gave way to an anger that made Gladiolus mumble a curse. Still holding the blade tightly, Ravus swung his sword at Gladiolus’s side, leaving a stinging cut. Before he could strike again, Gladiolus let his glaive dissipate and stepped back.

“You may have found new strength, but it cannot save all those squandering their lives for the Chosen King,” Ravus said bitterly. He flourished his sword and advanced purposefully on Gladiolus.

“It can take your ass down,” Gladiolus countered, but Ravus’s words had cut into him like their own blade. How many others could he could have saved if it had been different? His father, who had stayed with King Regis as Insomnia fell. Jared, whose life was taken just for knowing the prince’s whereabouts.

_ They perished in service to the King _ . Ignis’s voice echoed in Gladiolus’s head as Ravus closed the distance between them and attacked. Gladiolus barely had enough time to recall his sword to block the blow. Ravus persisted, forcing Gladiolus to retreat into the trees, using them for cover when he could.

“They didn’t squander anything,” Gladiolus decided aloud. He dodged behind a tree trunk already leaning heavily to one side. “Besides,” he taunted, “It’s an easy choice when the only alternative is serving the Empire.” He let his sword dissipate and pressed both hands against the bark, pushing with all his might. The tree fell easily, despite Gladiolus’s fatiguing muscles, and forced Ravus to stop his advance.

“And what of those who had no choice?” Ravus yelled from the other side of the obstacle. He slowly but assuredly stalked towards the base of the tree, using the time to recover some of his own strength. “Those who were left to die at the hands of the Imperial Army without a second thought. Those forsaken, and sacrificed, for  _ his _ destiny!”

Gladiolus frowned as Ravus came around the side of the tree. Noctis had only talked about the Imperial attack on Tenebrae once, about how King Regis had carried him to safety while leaving the Nox Fleuret family behind. The mother had died, but Ravus and Luna survived. And Gladiolus knew the Empire had no reservations finishing an assignment, no matter how valuable the target may be.

“Tell me, Sworn Shield,” Ravus hissed mockingly. “If cooperating with the Empire meant saving the only family you had left,  _ what would you have done?” _

_ Anything _ , but Gladiolus clenched his teeth shut to hold back the answer he knew Ravus wanted to hear. He let out a growl instead and summoned his sword once again as he charged his foe. Ravus met the blade with his own, and the two began their attacks again.

But Gladiolus felt he was in battle with an entirely different man. Instead of precision attacks and efficient effort, Ravus was recklessly and wildly swinging his sword. It left him open to counter attacks, though he seemed to care even less when Gladiolus’s blade landed its mark. The primal nature of Ravus’s aggression made him dangerous and hard to predict.

The two fought relentlessly as dusk turned into night. In a moment where they paused, each desperately trying to gain back the energy they were expending, the light on Gladiolus’s shirt flickered on. Ravus stood across from him breathing heavily, eyes filled with rage. Gladiolus recognized that hunger, the insatiable need for action to face the world. Before him stood a man broken down by failure. Torn apart by loss. A man whose worst nightmares had come true. Ravus may have been leading the Imperial Army, but he was only doing so to protect Luna. She was gone, and he had failed, and now he had nothing left.

Gladiolus couldn’t let that happen. He needed to take out the Empire, before they could do worse to Noctis. Ravus had been leading the army, which meant he would know how to stop them.

But before Gladiolus could say a word, something heavy collided into his arm, then another into his knees. He let his sword fade to grab one of the small forms and threw it against a tree. Then he felt the slick, oily goo on his hands, and his nose filled with the stench of rotting flesh. Gladiolus yelled out a curse. He summoned his sword again and sliced into one of the daemons as more emerged from the trees. They swarmed him from all sides, rushing in too close for his swords to be effective.

With a yell, Gladiolus let his sword dissipate and ripped off a daemon clawing up his leg with his bare hands, flinging it into the darkness. The next one he grabbed and slammed his fist into it until it felt limp. Another leaped at his head, and Gladiolus backhanded it away. Before they could get close again, Gladiolus reformed his great sword and slammed the blade into the ground.

A shock ran through the mud at his feet, and the daemons were temporarily frozen in place. The tree closest to him swayed, then crashed to the ground. Behind him, he could hear another’s roots lose their grip in the soil and fall, then another. Gladiolus pulled his sword from the ground and swung it at the remaining daemons, and they too fell and dissolved into the mud.

Gladiolus spun his light to see Ravus pinned beneath a fallen tree. More of the small daemons ran towards him along the trunk, eager for a target that could not fight back. Gladiolus also ran towards him, summoning his glaive along the way. Once he got close enough, he swung his sword.

“We’re not finished yet!” he yelled, and his blade sliced through the gathered daemons.  He swung again, and again, until they all crumbled to the ground. Ravus squirmed beneath the tree trunk in attempt to free his metal arm. Gladiolus let his sword fade, then reached beneath the trunk.

With a growl that grew into a battle cry, Gladiolus slowly lifted the tree enough for Ravus to slide out from beneath it. The former high commander straightened himself, but he was favoring his right side and his sword was nowhere within sight. He looked Gladiolus squarely in the eyes, like a proud, condemned prisoner awaiting his fate.

“Finish it, then,” Ravus calmly demanded. “Let me join my sister’s fate for the good of your King’s destiny.”

Gladiolus gripped the hilt of his sword and began to gather his anger, as he had always done before. Ravus was the High Commander of the Imperial Army. Under his command, they had attacked Leviathan, and caused Noctis’s slumber. Caused Ignis’s eyes to be injured. Slaughtered so many more Altissians, as thoughtless collateral damage. The Empire was responsible for all of it. For the damage Altissia had taken. For killing Jared Hester. For Iris and Talcott having to hide away in a lighthouse. For the Oracle’s death.

The Empire was to blame.

Gladiolus let out a rush of air from his lungs in a weary sigh, letting his sword fade away. “Noct never wanted any of this,” he said as he dropped onto the trunk of a fallen tree. “Only thing he cared about was Luna’s safety.”

“Then he failed,” Ravus said. He sat down on another trunk not far away. “I lost my sister because of him.”

“All of us have lost people we care about,” Gladiolus replied. “Noct, too. It’s all been because of the Empire. The only way to stop it is for us to take them down, once and for all.”

After a long pause, Ravus asked, “And you believe the King up to the task?”

Gladiolus let out a short laugh. “He sure as hell ain’t going to let them get away with all they’ve done.” The two fell to silence, sitting among the fallen trees. Not even a month ago - hell, not even an hour ago - Gladiolus wanted nothing more than to kill Ravus for all he had done. But it turned out he was just a man, hoping for a life a peace and happiness for his sister. Gladiolus couldn’t blame him for that.

“You know,” Gladiolus broke the silence. “Your help would be pretty useful against the Empire. You should come with us.”

“No,” Ravus said bluntly, drawing Gladiolus’s gaze. “The King of Lucis needs his father’s sword. It was lost during the battle with the Hydraean. I will retrieve it and meet you in Gralea.” Gladiolus nodded his agreement to the idea.

Ravus’s mouth turned up into something resembling a smile. “Ensure he arrives in one piece, Shield. As soon as he is capable.”

“Oh, he will,” Gladiolus promised. “Even if I have to carry him there myself.”

\-----

By the time Gladiolus returned to the estate, it was nearly morning. He found Ignis helping Prompto with a King’s Knight game. More accurately, Prompto was giving a play-by-play of the screen, and Ignis was making all the choices. As soon as Gladiolus rounded the corner, Ignis turned his head towards him.

“What’s that I smell?” he asked.

“Weskham’s smoked fish,” Gladiolus responded, setting two boxes on the bedside table. “There’s some eggs and toast in there, too. And this.” Gladiolus set a 12-pack of Ebony on Ignis’s lap.

“Whoa!” Prompto cried. “Where’d you find that much Ebony? It took me forever to find two cans.”

Gladiolus shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” He left out the part where he bribed, and then threatened, a couple of relief workers just to get it. Seeing Ignis open up a can and savor the taste of it was the important part.

“Hey Prompto,” Gladiolus said next. “You wanna run a couple laps with me? I found the warehouse where they kept all their decorations for that Chocomog festival. Unattended.” Or at least, it would be for another hour or so.

“Oh. My. Gods,” Prompto said as mouth dropped open and his eyes nearly popped out. “Do you even have to ask?! I mean, only if Iggy is okay by himself.” He anxiously looked over at their friend.

“I should like to sit with Noct for a while, if you don’t mind leading me there,” Ignis replied.

“Of course!” Prompto jumped up and was at Ignis’s side in a second. As Prompto guided him out of the room, Ignis paused at the door.

“Thank you, Gladio,” he said.

“Don’t mention it,” Gladiolus replied. “Just want things back to normal as soon as possible.” And that meant wasting no time traveling to Nifleheim, getting the sword from Ravus, and finally taking down the Empire. Just as soon as their King was awake.

 


End file.
